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Authors: Colette R. Harrell

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BOOK: The Devil Made Me Do It
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Chapter Forty-seven

Esther's boots glided across the worn tile, her coat hanging open as she clipped the visitor's pass to her lapel. It had been a month since Monica had set the record straight at church, and their ridiculous showdown afterward. She'd endured her mother's scolding of her behavior and Mother Reed's silent disappointment. It was a good thing they were the ones standing behind her in line. Esther couldn't understand what came over her, but she just couldn't seem to shut up. She wanted to say, like Geraldine, on the old
Flip Wilson Show
, “The devil made me do it.” But she knew that her Bible-studying mother might have hit her with some old-time wisdom. The devil ain't powerful, God is.

The upside of Monica's arrival? The rumors had died a sudden death. The downside? Monica had arrived. She managed to be everywhere at church where Esther was, lording her position over everyone. In the best of circumstances, Esther admitted it would be hard-pressed to like her. But, for real? This girl was a trip and a half.

Esther grunted, “Looking forward is the key; just keep moving forward.” Her concentration needed to be on Lawton. She made it to the hospital every day, and when he was moved to the rehabilitation wing, she came at least four times a week. Her honey got bored lying around.

Their only dark cloud was waiting for Roger's trial to end and Lawton's clearance from the car crash investigation. Esther checked her watch and hurried down the hospital rehabilitation wing's corridor. Lawton's progress remained impressive. No longer in a wheelchair, his walker was put away two days ago. Getting the hang of using his cane had him hoping his doctor would release him soon.

Esther reached Lawton's room, but the hospital bed was empty and the room dark.
That's odd; rehab is usually over by this time of day.

She settled down in a chair when music floated through the curtain from the next bed.

The curtain crawled open, revealing an empty space where the bed used to stand, and in its place was a linen-covered table for two with candles burning in soft luminosity. Lawton held his body tightly to minimize his discomfort, and then limped on his cane toward the set table and motioned Esther over.

Esther rushed to help him sit. “What have you done, crazy man?”

After sitting and taking a breath, he eased from the chair and sank in slow motion to his knee, using his cane as a brace. “I was cleared of all charges today, so I'm gainfully employed. The camera showed—yes—I was in a high-speed chase, but the other driver slammed on his brakes causing the accident.” Caressing her hand he kissed it. “The hospital is not the best setting, but I'm on bended knee, and if it means anything to you, I'll stay here the rest of my life honoring you, as I honor God. There will never be a minute of any day when I won't love you, and in my last moment on earth, you will be in my thoughts as I go to meet our Father.”

Teary eyed, Esther sank to her knees and faced him. “And I will marry you and cleave to you. I will submit to you and make you a home where you will be my love. I've had wrong, so I know that you are my right.” She leaned forward kissing him sweetly, giving him a seductive smile, then wiggling her bare hand. “I'd like an engagement period of a year, oneness classes, and you need to put a ring on it . . . uh, baby . . . my knees are killing me.”

Lawton gave a full belly laugh, pulled himself up, and then sat and assisted Esther. “Sweetheart, I'm already ahead of you. We have an appointment with the jeweler two weeks from today. The doctor told me that's the day I'm out of here. Everything else you mentioned is on the agenda too. A year is fine, because at the end of the year, I get you.”

There was tenderness in their kiss as they shared a perfect moment in an imperfect setting.

 

 

Lawton was happily sitting in the kitchen of Mother Reed's home, exclaiming over her cooking. He had been released from the hospital for a week and was now making his way to resume some of his activities. On medical leave from the police force, he hoped they would at least let him have desk duty next month.

“These field peas are excellent, Mother Reed. I love down-home cooking, and I've been told by several of the Wileys that no one does it better than you. They were right.”

Mother Reed smiled in appreciation of the way Lawton ate up her cooking. It did her heart good that others enjoyed it.

He sipped his water. “You might wonder why I asked to meet with you without Esther being here.”

“I'm happy to have you, but a body wondered.”

“I know you are an important part of Esther's life. I've gotten to know her family from their visits to my hospital room and while I was in rehabilitation. I appreciate that you had us over for dinner earlier this week. But I'd like to know you for myself, to truly feel a part of Esther's entire family.”

“You sure you want to do that? Hav' you met Gert?” Mother Reed joked.

“Yes, ma'am, even Aunt Gert!” They both laughed.

To emphasize her words, she tapped on the table. “Life is a series of seasons; beginnings and endings. All we can ever do is live each to its fullest, giving honor to every minute. As you and Esther go forward, you need to know that she's special, she's favored.”

Lawton went to interrupt, but Mother Reed held up her hand for silence. “I know you love her, but I'm talking 'bout who she is. That's much more than who you see.”

Lawton listened, not wanting to miss any of her wisdom.

“When she was just a spark of the fire she was meant to be, she knew she was a princess, a Cinderella. But the enemy came to put her flame out early. Too many of our children's potential has been stolen before they can fulfill their purpose. I remember Elizabeth calling her mama in tears, 'bout that baby's pain. Who could turn a Cinderella contest into a hellish experience but the devil? Prejudice is an evil thang. And too many of us have had to endure that hurt. It can make a person question if they as bad as people say they are. Am I really ugly, stupid, dirty? Chile, the enemy been throwing punches at Esther as long as I can remember. She has lost people and things.”

Lawton couldn't help but interrupt, “Mother Reed, Esther acts secure, mature, and confident.”

“Yes, but at a cost. We all pay it, sometime. When you learn to grow from the pain, you make the trip forward in spite of your limitations and the stubbing of your toes in the dark. You've heard of growing pains, ain't cha'?”

“Yes, ma'am, I have.”

“There's a group of praying women who call themselves Women of Zion. They say ‘Embrace the pain, refuse to go insane.' I understand the message. Life can be hard, but if we learn to say, ‘I trust you, Lord,' ooh wee, we can put the enemy on the run. So . . . what I want to know is, are you ready to allow Esther to be all she can be in God, support her in the rough times, and cheer her on in the good times? Can you be joyful when you see God using her to free others? It's her calling.”

Lawton contemplated all he'd heard. He thought about being fortunate enough to have such wise counsel, and he understood how Esther valued this woman so highly. It was one of those times in life where he wanted to say something profound, to be deep, but he knew enough to settle for truth from the heart. “When I was a little boy, I loved the unique, and I dreamed of great treasure. I was always excited about fortuitous pleasures. Esther—”

“Boy, you ain't gotta give a speech, and if you don't mind my asking, what in the Himalayas is fortuious, fortuis . . . uh, that word you just used.”

Lawton chuckled. “I apologize. I meant to keep my words simple because what's on my heart is plain. The word means unexpected, and that's what I felt the first time I saw Esther. I felt she was my unexpected treasure. When I came to know her, I believed she was the answer to my prayers to God, and my blessing for a lifestyle of obedience and holiness.”

Mother Reed pushed up from the table and walked over to the cabinet. “Baby, you said that so good, you don' made me pull out the moistest cream cheese pound cake you ever tasted.”

“What if I had answered wrong?”

“Oh, Mama don't do people wrong. I had a little store-bought cake in the icebox for you.” She giggled as she sliced him a large piece of cake.

“In that case, can a brother take an extra piece to go?”

“Honey, you can take the whole cake. This is you and my baby's season, and I'm gon' honor it.”

Lawton smiled deciding against questioning her further. He felt he had passed a test, and he didn't want to end up taking another exam anytime soon.

Chapter Forty-eight

The key in the deadbolt lock turned with ease as Briggs entered the darkened house. He wished that the key to fix his life would work as smoothly. A low watt light glowed in a back room beaconing him closer. He could smell Monica's perfume wafting through his nostrils. The exotic scent was reminiscent of past evenings of volatile heated exchanges; sometimes anger, sometimes passion. He was pleased with the way Monica handled the church rumor mill and how she had become active at church. She was making a place for herself. However, he still insisted they sleep in separate rooms.

As God's man, Briggs had forgiven her, but he was still working on the forgetting part. He had learned long ago that the measure of a man was gauged by the amount of self-control he exhibited. Although it had been too long since he had the pleasure of his marriage bed, too much had occurred to just fall back into past toxic patterns. He hardened himself against his flesh weakening.

Stiletto heels clicking on hardwood floors signaled he was no longer alone with his thoughts. “Briggs, honey, why are you standing here in the dark?”

Briggs pulled his tie loose as he laid his briefcase on the coffee table. He stared silently at Monica and struggled to remain unmoved by the alluring picture she made. Her silhouette was a sensual banquet to his senses. Ultrasheer in texture, her lavender gown flowed over her nudity like a second skin. She was all soft and sparkling from iridescent lotion. But what put the hammer to his beating heart were her feet encased in the most decadent spiked heels he had ever seen. The height was making her legs longer and shapelier than he remembered.

“I'm so glad you're home. Wait 'til I tell you about my day. You'll be so proud of me. It started with a call to Naomi, and after discussing my desire to help you adjust more, your secretary was kind enough to fax over the church membership roster. She highlighted the women at church who I should get to know better. As first lady, I felt it was important to get started building your power base,” Monica continued to move toward Briggs in a sexually predatory sway.

“Power base?” Briggs shrugged out of his jacket.

“Yes, power base. Please, don't get all holier than thou on me. I simply mean that for you to get anything done here, you will have to have people behind you, and as your wife, I plan to assist you in making that happen.”

Briggs was thoughtful, while loosening his tie. “You have been a great help at the church. I still can't help wondering what's in this for you.”

“Making you happy.” Monica wrapped her arms around herself and stepped back, her head slanted, so that Briggs could look into her eyes. “If I could take back the affair, I would. I'm sorry for all the times I caused you grief, for always putting my needs before yours. I've tried to show you these last weeks that I can be better.”

Briggs fingered his bottom lip in wonder. “Wow, what else could you possibly say to top all of this?” he asked, while he examined her face for signs of deception.

Monica stepped into his personal space and seemed to suck the air out of the room. She trailed her finger down his chest and pulled his already-loosened tie off his neck. “Briggs, it's been more than a month, and I have a present for you.” She handed him a gold foiled box.

Puzzled, he opened it. Inside was a folded piece of paper. He read her sexually transmitted diseases medical report: HIV—negative, Herpes—negative, and on and on it went—all negative.

“And the feelings that kept you in Atlanta, is that negative now too?” Briggs needed to know.

Monica kissed his jaw and purred, “Yes, and on that, I'm positive. Would you like to talk about it?”

“No, talk time is over. What I want is for this marriage to heal, and we can do that together. Marvin Gaye might have had an inkling to what kind of healing I'm needing in his song, but don't tell my father, the very honorable Bishop Stokes,” his voice filled with laughter.

A soft sigh escaped Monica's lips. “I was so worried, Briggs. Thank you. You've never stayed angry with me this long. I promise no more chances will be needed. I'm going to make you so proud.”

Briggs sobered as he thought about his past and his need to move on. He had learned so much in this city about himself, his needs, and his shortcomings. He was flawed, but God's son. He didn't need to defend his connections but should celebrate every step toward fulfilling his purpose. Could God give you the ability to love fiercely—twice? He put his arms around Monica and inhaled loudly as he took the first step in healing his marriage. “You smell wonderful, and you look beyond beautiful.”

“Well, husband, what are you waiting for?” She snuggled into his body.

Briggs captured her in an all-or-nothing kiss. He then picked her up, her shoes falling off as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He glided backward, carrying her down the hallway. As the bedroom door swung shut behind them, her soft sigh of satisfaction reverberated in the otherwise silent house.

Chapter Forty-nine

Fall ended and the holidays found her and Lawton meshing their families and lives. Now it was January, and the wind howled past the church's beveled windows. The Bible said, “for everything there is a season.”

Esther and Lawton faced each other in ornate king and queen chairs. They were beginning a session of their marriage oneness counseling at his church. It was their third class, and both were determined to make their marriage a success. Lawton's pastor had announced that this class would be a lesson in transparency and vulnerability to build trust. Esther thought it would be a walk-through like the other two classes.

Pastor Adams reached over and placed their hands together. “Lawton, can you look at Esther and tell her if there is anything that bothers you in the relationship?”

Lawton squeezed Esther's hand. “Nothing to report, sir. I love Esther.”

“Lawton, if we are going to move forward, honesty is key. I know you love Esther, but please answer the question.”

Esther shifted uncomfortably in what she suddenly felt was the hot seat. Her hands were slipping out of Lawton's due to their mingled perspiration. “Go on, honey,” Esther's stomach rolled.

Lawton's facial expression was one of thoughtful concentration. Esther could tell it was his “thinking hard” look.

“Well, when I first saw Esther, she drew my interest.” Lawton pressed her hands between his larger ones. “When Esther noticed my interest, she became self-conscious. I was going to walk away, but she stumbled and fell, and in my attempt to rescue her, I knew she was the one. But I still see glimpses of that uncertainty in her from time to time. I don't want her to act like she knows, but I want her to know her worth.”

“Oh my,” Esther attempted pulling away from Lawton to no avail.

Pastor Adams nodded for Lawton to continue.

He stroked Esther's cheek. “I love you so much. You are God's greatest creation, because He fashioned you for me. Knowing your worth allows you to value mine.”

Esther bit her bottom lip and allowed tears to wash down her chin. “I don't know why I'm like this. I don't want to be. It just seems like the times in my life that are the most important, I mess up.”

“Tell us what you mean, Esther.”

Esther had a faraway look in her eyes. “When I was seven I wanted a physical symbol that I was special. My daddy always called me princess, so Cinderella seemed to be a logical choice. But, even though my foot fit the shoe, I was turned away. My skin color made me unworthy.” Esther's smile wobbled, her head dropped. “Never did get over something that stupid. Later, in college, my best friend committed suicide, and my other best friend who found her responded by rejecting me and leaving town, leaving no forwarding address. My life was falling like dominos.”

“How'd you handle so much pain?” Pastor Adams asked. Lawton's pressing hand encouraged her to answer.

Sniffling, she pressed back. “I made so many mistakes as a result of my experiences, trying to fix myself when God only wanted me to rest in Him. My marriage was so broken . . . oh . . . oh . . . I need healing—” she wept.

Lawton slipped from his chair holding her as she sobbed.

Pastor Adams smiled. “Daughter, it is well. You are on your way to a greater intimacy with God, Lawton, and yourself. You shall shine. I want to see you by yourself for some sessions. Is that okay with you?”

Esther nodded as she wiped her eyes and gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “Yes, I think we better finish the job.”

Lawton hugged her, and then his pastor. “This was so good. Thank you.”

Pastor Adams clasped Lawton's shoulder. “Son, we're only half done. Now it's your turn.”

Lawton gulped as they all sat back down.

 

 

Monday afternoon, Esther sat at her desk working at a fevered pitch to lay out her latest project. She thought about the activities of the last several months. Roger's court trial resulted in his conviction on several counts. He currently was the guest of the state of Michigan's prison system.

She was a multitasker, and as she signed personal leave requests, she continued her mental backtrack of the last two months. While Monica may have brought up the rear, Esther had pulled off getting the zoning board to back off by putting the right people in the know. She had no idea she knew people who could green-light a project or kill it with their yea or nay.

Mother Reed was right; she'd been positioned for favor. People she'd done favors for rewarded her by backing her protests against the zoning board's restrictions. She beamed, acknowledging her hard work in the past helped today. Just goes to show that God loves a cheerful giver, and giving of your time and talent was as important as your money.

She now attended Lawton's church on alternating Sundays. Yes, the rumors had died, but she felt more comfortable with Lawton's pastor. Reverend Gregory had phoned and promised to return to perform her marriage ceremony. Surprisingly, she wasn't having any issues with Monica. She just felt that her place was with Lawton at his church. She still didn't like Monica, but she didn't have to.

Esther tenderly touched the framed picture of her and Lawton resting on her desk. “Well, sweetheart, it's time to earn this paycheck.” She turned her chair in the opposite direction, humming as she pulled up her computer screen and put on her glasses.

New seasons meant changes for everyone; it was good to embrace them.

 

 

The click clacking of purposeful steps echoed down the silent hall. Under a time limit Esther wanted to drop off the last of her Love Zion committee paperwork to Naomi. The empty hallway in the administrative wing made her believe her delay at the office might have made her miss out. She approached the door to knock, when it suddenly swung open and Naomi stepped out, closing the door behind her.

Esther smiled in relief, “Oh, good. Hi, Naomi, I have the last of all my committee's paperwork to turn in. I'm so glad I caught you before you left.”

Naomi gave Esther a furrowed frown. “Oh, you missed me.” She pointed behind her. “My desk is in there, and I'm out here. I'm gone for the day. You know I don't stay beyond 6 p.m. I got children to feed.”

“Your cats?”

“That's what I said, Esther. You need to remember these things. If you really want to be rude, Pastor's inside getting ready to leave. You can try to catch him, but it really would be—”

“I know . . . rude,” Esther said to Naomi's back as she fled down the hall.

Esther debated going through a door that was mutually closed months before. The papers in her hands were important, and she wanted to minimize her interaction with Monica who seemed to be taking over everything at the church. She knocked and opened the door to Naomi's office area. In response to her knock. Briggs entered the room shrugging into his jacket.

“Esther? It's good to see you.” He went over to hug her, and then halted midstep clearing his throat. “How can I help you? Naomi already left for the day.”

“Yes, I ran into her, and she let me know in no uncertain terms she was already gone.”

Briggs laughed and crossed his arms in fondness. “You gotta love her.” He noticed the files in her hands, and pointed. “Are those files for us?”

She held out the files and handed them over. “Well,” she sighed and looked around the office remembering how much at home this once felt, “it's been an honor to serve Love Zion, and I wish you—”

Briggs pulled her in and hugged her until she hugged him back. They stood there, both needing this last opportunity. Slow and silent they let go. It had all been said.

Esther headed out the door, this time feeling like the last piece of the puzzle had fallen into place. No one was in crisis, angry, or distraught. They both understood life took you where you least expected it.

And, that wasn't necessarily bad, despite the tear that clung to her cheek.

 

 

“No no no,” hissed The Leader as he watched Esther leave Love Zion. Everything was going wrong.

“Imp One, come here!”

Imp One, nervous and shaky, flew to his boss's call. “Yes, O Great One. How may I serve you?”

“Visit Roger in prison. Have him write a letter, manipulate it where he causes Esther to believe she has failed him. Oh, and stir up Lawton's jealousy of Briggs for the next several months. Esther still hasn't had that Briggs conversation with him. I believe we can still do something with jealousy; it's such an ugly human emotion. Then go to Briggs and whisper words of love for Esther to him. Have him believe he cannot live without her and have him disrupt the wedding. And, when Briggs and Esther feel they can now be together, I want Monica to announce she's pregnant. Let's keep a link between her and Briggs. Do you have all of that?” he yelled.

“Oh yes, Great One,” Imp One stated as he headed to the prison yard. Did he say, have Esther get pregnant, have Briggs love Monica? Oh dear, oh dear, the imp thought as he struggled to remember his assignments. The thought of demon ashes blowing through his subconscious had shattered his concentration.

BOOK: The Devil Made Me Do It
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